Interesting Confusion
by TARDIS2013
Summary: Sherlock Holmes lives for solving mysterious murders. But one night at a crime scene, He gets shot and hospitalized. It's up to Watson to solve the biggest question of all, "Who shot Sherlock Holmes?" I suck at writing summaries. Plz R&R. Rated T because I am paranoid. X3
1. Something's Wrong

_**Hey guys! Long Time No See! X3 I know some of you are mad at me for not updating my other story yet. Let me assure you that I will update sometime tonight. I have been very busy, for that I am sooooo sorry. *Bows* I hope you can forgive me. **_

_**Now I have been watching a BBC show called Sherlock. I love it! This was something my best friend asked me to do sooooo here you go! If I get enough reviews I will add the next chapter, but only if you readers want me to.**_

_**-The storyline is mine! Do Not Copy W/O Permission.**_

_**-All rights reserved. (I do not own Sherlock Holmes or any other character of Sherlock.)**_

* * *

Sherlock Holmes was on his way to a formal dress party when he got a text message from the Inspector Detective. Opening it, he read the address, told the cabbie the change in his destination, and mentally prepared for the onset of excitement to kick in. He loved to solve the mysterious murders. How confusing yet exhilarating it made him feel.

As the cabbie pulled up, Sherlock reached into his wallet, pulled out the exact amount, and handed it to the man. Getting out, Sherlock made his way through the crowd of cameras and photographers, ignoring the sudden impulse to tell them all to 'piss off.' Instead, he found himself going under the police tape and over to the dead body without any hassle from SGT. Donovan.

"Hmmm… Interesting…" Sherlock thought to himself as he noticed that John Watson had beaten him to the crime scene.

* * *

"Sherlock, I think this one is different," John said confused, "Something doesn't seem right about this murder."

Confused and intrigued, Sherlock pulled back the sheet and the first thing he noticed was the way she was laying. It was as if someone took great care in how they placed her. She was laying on her back with her hands lying on her stomach, like she had just fallen asleep never to awaken again; kinda like Sleeping Beauty.

Next, Sherlock took in her appearance. The woman was dressed professionally in a woman's suit jacket/skirt combo with stockings & solid black heels, and her hair was nicely kept and in a bun. Not a hair out of place. (Pun intended…) Sherlock was at odds with this. John was right, this murder seemed wrong. As Sherlock moved closer, he noticed the woman was holding something, her compact, but there wasn't a…

"Where is her purse?" Sherlock asked before his thought process completed.

"There wasn't one with her, sir." The officer closest answered.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked puzzled, "It has to be somewhere close by. This woman has her compact in her hand, so her purse has to be somewhere nearby. What woman carries her compact in her hand?"

"We will look again, sir." The officer said before turning around to search for the purse.

"Watson, what do you think about this?" Sherlock asked, as he stepped away from the body.

"I think there is something weird about this murder. It looks as if she just lied down in the middle of the road and fell asleep." Watson said genuinely perplexed.

"Exactly, but that makes no sense at all. Why is she here?" Sherlock asked as he looked around at the dirty ally way of downtown.

"From what I can see, she obviously didn't live around here. From the clothes, I'd say she worked for a law firm or real estate. Upon closer examination, you can see how nicely kept her hair and nails are. She wears simple make-up meaning she is either married or divorced and not looking for a relationship. With very few wrinkles and fair skin, she's approximately mid-thirties. And, of course, her compact: worn and obviously used. But when you put all of that together, you get a puzzle that doesn't belong," Sherlock explained with ease that only he could muster, "This makes no sense whatsoever. She shouldn't be here like this. I can't tell if she was murdered or if this was accidental. It sure as hell wasn't natural."

"There is something missing." John said reassuringly, "Nothing adds up anywhere. Do they even know her name?"

"Her name is MaryAnne Cooper. She is one of the most successful real estate sellers in London." A young police officer said.

"How do you know that?" Sherlock said irritated as he turned toward the officer. The officer, in turn, handed him a newspaper where he noticed the headline: "MaryAnne Cooper: A Real Estate Legend."

"Well this is just…" John couldn't finish his thought as shots rang out everywhere.

Springing into action, John Watson pulled Sherlock, who looked just as surprised as he did, behind the nearest dumpster. Pulling out his Glock, John spotted a rifleman on the rooftop of the building in front of them, aimed, and shot him. As the rifleman fell, Watson turned toward Sherlock only to stop dead in his tracks and drop his gun.

...

Sherlock had been shot twice.


	2. Bloodloss

**Hello again Everyone... I am so sorry I haven't posted anything recently, I just have a lot going on. I am in the process of moving so I am very busy. Anywayz, I hope everyone likes this chapter. Please Read and Review. Tell me what you think... Bad, good, annoying, idiotic, anything. I accept all reviews.**

**-I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters from Sherlock. I own Liz, Mitch, and the storyline.**

**-All rights reserved.**

Watson's POV

I saw him fall. It was like slow motion in a movie scene. As he fell, his trench coat billowed out then settled as I caught Sherlock before his head hit the ground.

"Sherlock?" I called as I caught him, "Sherlock, can you hear me?"

By this time I was attracting a crowd. I kicked it into high gear as I let my medical training take over. I checked his injuries, made sure he was getting enough oxygen, then and only then, did I turn toward the crowd of police officers.

"I need supplies," I ordered to the closest group of officers, "I need stethoscope, oxygen mask, tubing, and tank, as well as sterile gauze and bandaging."

As the officers took did what I ordered, I turned back to Sherlock. I laid him flat on his back and tore open his shirt. His skin was paler than normal and cool to the touch do to the blood loss. One of the officers came back with his arms full of gauze and many other types of sterile dressings. I instructed him to tear open two packs of gauze and hand them to me without dropping them. While I tried to staunch the blood from flowing anymore, I asked a female officer to help me while we waited for the ambulance to arrive.

Right as she took over, one of the previous officers came back with a stethoscope I had asked for. I thanked him and took it. Turning back toward Sherlock, I placed the ear buds in my ears and chest piece on his chest. I could hear his heart slowing down and felt for his pulse, which I found it thready and weak. After checking it again, I went to help the female officer with Sherlock's injuries and that's when I heard him.

Sherlock was semi-awake and talking between breaths. He said something before passing out. It sounded like an apology but I couldn't make out the words. I waited to see if he would wake back up but then I noticed something… He wasn't breathing. I checked for a heartbeat and couldn't find one. His heart had stopped.

As I started CPR I yelled, "Where is that damn oxygen?"

"Right here!" An officer yelled back as he ran up with the rest of what I needed, "There was a clinic down the street. One of the nurses heard the gunshots and handed this to me as soon as I got there."

"Good then. Position yourself at Sherlock's head; you will help him breathe." I told him as I turned back to Sherlock and pleaded, "Come on, Sherlock, don't give up yet. Please, not yet."

"Sir, allow let me take over. I am a nurse. We don't want you straining yourself too much.' I heard an officer request.

"I am fine. I am a trained doctor." I told him while I counted out the chest compressions in my head, "Go take over for the policeman if you really want to help."

About ten seconds after I said that, I heard sirens and saw flashing lights. I also heard Lestrade yelling at the officers to move and make a path for the paramedics. When the paramedics got to where I was, one of them placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Sir, we…" The paramedic started until she saw who I was, "What a surprise, or it would be if we were meeting under different circumstances. Tell me what we are dealing with."

"Hey, Liz. Meet Sherlock Holmes. Age 32, Shot Twice: Once in the Torso, and Once in the Abdomen. I do not know if they are through-and-throughs but he is currently in cardiac arrest," I tried to explain as quickly as I could, trying to conserve as much of my breath as I went on, "We need to get his heart restarted. I need an AED."

"I got one right here," Liz said, holding up the AED, "Let Mitch attach the leads really quick and then you can jolt him. I am gonna go grab the stretcher."

I stopped and sat back long enough to let 'Mitch' attach the leads, check to make sure Sherlock had flat-lined, and set up the AED. Once everything was in order and ready, I grabbed the paddles, placed them on Sherlock's chest and jolted him. At first nothing happened, but then we got our little sign of hope.

Sherlock took a breath and his heart rate registered on the machine.

"Let's load him up." Liz stated.

"Do you mind if I ride with him?" I asked, " I am his primary physician and his best friend."

"Sure, hop in the back."

* * *

Sherlock's POV

Darkness. It welcomed me with open arms. Comfort. I finally achieved it. No stress, no pain, just soothing comfort. Silence. No noise, no yelling, just silence of the void I, now, floated in. I felt no fear. Nor did I feel anxious. Too bad the only way to achieve it is hanging on to life. What does death truly feel like?


End file.
